


Snuggie of Evil™

by Michael Alexander (MistressOakdown)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Evil Snuggie, F/M, I just want the Daemons robe okay, i want it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21542359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressOakdown/pseuds/Michael%20Alexander
Summary: Prompt: The heating on The Master’s TARDIS has malfunctioned, and The Reader has to resort to desperate measures to keep warm.A/N: Listen I have no idea how long this’ll be. This is a bullshit idea that just yeeted into my brain at 3AM and it won’t leave.
Relationships: The Master (Delgado)/Reader, The Master (Doctor Who)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	Snuggie of Evil™

When Y/N shivered for what seemed like the fiftieth time, she let out a frustrated huff and unburied herself from her mountain of blankets. She marched her small form into the console room, the black-clad pilot of said time-travelling freezer currently sitting in the console chair, working out some calculations as he tried to figure out what had caused the heating to go out. She cleared her throat to get his attention, an annoyed noise coming from the man as he looked up at his companion.

“Yes? What is it?” He asked curtly, and Y/N began to reply with a smart comment before a hard chill hit her, the young woman’s entire body shaking as the cold took over. She glared at him, her teeth chattering so hard that he could hear it.

“D-Do y-you not f-feel the c-c-cold?” She asked, her attempt at sounding stern being dulled by the stuttering. He rolled his eyes.

“My dear, I am not affected by temperature the way you fragile humans are. I’m trying to fix the problem. Just be patient.” He explained, before giving her a soft smile.

“Go to the wardrobe and find something to wear that will warm you up. These calculations shouldn’t take much longer.” He suggested, the girl barely managing to nod through her shaking. She turned to leave, meaning she didn’t see the concerned glance sent her way by The Master. She eventually found the wardrobe, quickly running in and beginning her search.

She found many tacky sweaters with itchy fabric, a few hoodies that were too small for her, and one terrifyingly ugly, black velvet jacket with puffy sleeves that she prayed The Master would _never_ wear. Eventually, her eyes landed on something red and soft-looking in the back of the closet. She pulled it out, only to find that it was The Master’s cult robe from when he tried to summon Azal. Her shivers were slightly subdued for a moment by a small fit of giggles before she felt the inside of it.

“ _Holy shit_ , that’s soft.” She whispered to herself, before quickly putting it on. Her body almost immediately felt better; it was as if the robe itself was emanating heat. Maybe it was. She began to make her way back to her room, but she stopped as an idea hit her. The Master has a fireplace in his room. With a mischevious grin, she sprinted down the chilly hall in search for his room.

She found it fairly quickly, the TARDIS probably helping in that endeavour, and she quickly made her way inside. She was relieved to see that the fire was already lit and the room was already fairly heated, her body nearly collapsing in relief from the cold. She sat down by the fireplace, the oversized robe nearly swallowing her. She eventually laid down and curled up, pulling the robe to completely cover her as she began drifting off, the calming sound of the fire crackling lulling her asleep.

The Master was correct when he said that the calculations wouldn’t take much longer, and the moment he finished, he plugged them into the console. A wave of heat seemed to sweep through the ship as it began adjusting his temperature. He smiled in satisfaction to himself before figuring that he should go find his frozen companion. Her lips were nearly blue the last time he saw her, and he could only hope that it hadn’t truly affected her too badly.

He checked her room, the library, the wardrobe, and the kitchen, and she was nowhere to be found. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was getting quite worried. She was very fragile compared to him; Anything could’ve happened. He was walking speedily down the corridor when he passed his room, and the sound of a crackling fire caught his attention. He opened the door slowly, peeking into the warm room.

The first thing his eyes landed on appeared to be his old robe that he wore during his cult meetings. He mentally questioned himself, wondering when and why he would’ve left it there. As he approached it, he heard what sounded like faint snores coming from the heap of cloth. He walked around it before kneeling down, lifting up the fabric ever so gently. What he found was, of course, his companion. She had a small smile on her face, and looked so gentle that it even made The Master feel soft. He quickly realized that she was laying on the floor, and he couldn’t allow that, so he walked over to the bed, pulling the covers down, before returning to the human and gently scooping her up into his arms. She made a small noise of protest but he simply shushed her, carrying her over to his bed.

He placed her down gently, making sure to arrange it so that the robe wasn’t uncomfortable for her. She mumbled a small ‘thank you’ which he didn’t respond to, but when he tried to leave, he was stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t go.” She mumbled, and one look at her sleepy puppy-dog eyes was all it took to have The Master crawling into bed with his companion. He pulled the covers up over them, trapping the heat between the two of them.

“I fixed the TARDIS, so it should warm up soon, my dear.” He assured, receiving a ‘mmhmm’ from the sleepy girl next to him. He began to debate waiting until she fell asleep and getting back up, but when she scooted closer to him and pressed her face into his chest, a contented hum coming from her, that plan went out the metaphorical window very quickly. He instead wrapped his arms around her, pulling her snug against him.

It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep in his company, nor did it take long for the TARDIS to begin warming up. He knew that, because of the rising temperature, the sleeping girl next to him would soon get too hot and get out of bed. She’d shed his robe and go about her business, waiting for his next scheme to take place. Since he warmed up the TARDIS, it was going to severely limit his time with her.

It was a good thing he could control the temperature remotely, wasn’t it?


End file.
